


Cursed Light

by Morgana



Series: Blessed Darkness, Cursed Light [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:46:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The light will always come to chase the darkness away</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursed Light

You aren't asleep, not really. You hardly ever sleep when he stays over, too wrapped up in him to risk losing a second of this. You'll sleep after he leaves, when you're alone once more in your bed, trying to forget how big and cold it is with just you in it. But for right now, he's here, curled around you like he's trying to protect you from the world, and everything's just right.  
  
He moves away and you follow, seeking more warmth, more comfort, keeping your eyes closed so you can pretend to be asleep. The darkness allows you to take what you want, lets you actually be more than just a monster, more than the thing under the bed that he fucks and then leaves. You've told yourself that he doesn't think of you like that a thousand times, but your early conditioning's too deep to ignore - it's still hard to believe that someone like him could love something like you.  
  
He strokes your arm, petting you almost absently, but you can feel him hardening against you. Sure enough, he leans down to kiss your throat, and you can feel him smile and move against you when you moan and push back against him. You love his responsiveness, how eager he is for you, like it's the first time every time. Hopefully he'll never lose that, never stop seeking you out in the midst of the darkness.  
  
You reach behind to take his hand, fingers closing around his for a second before you bring it around and wrap it around yourself. He squeezes you briefly before you put your hand over his and start to move, showing him how you want it - slow, a nice even rhythm that keeps you from getting too needy too fast. You want this to last, and if he starts getting too into it, you'll lose it before you even get what you want. And while that's all well and good for those times that you're tearing at each other, here in the dark, you need something more, something that will sustain you when he's gone.  
  
"I want you," he whispers, his breath warm and heavy in your ear. You can hear his breathing already speeding up, feel the precome beginning to dampen your lower back, his body betraying his need, and you can't help pushing back against him again. His breath catches and he thrusts against you, sliding easily over your skin. It would be so easy to just keep doing this until you both come, but you know that you both want more.  
  
When he shifts and pushed two fingers up inside you, you can't do anything but shiver and moan in response. The burn's gone almost before you notice it, and then there's just that bit of him inside you, teasing you with what you know will follow it, promising that perfect union without quite delivering it. He's still whispering to you, telling you how beautiful and precious and perfect you are, calling you baby and sweetheart and dear, things he never says in except here in bed, although you don't know why, whether he's afraid it would make him less manly or if he thinks you'd take exception to it. Not that you care, of course - he could call you snookums in front of the whole Scooby gang and your sire, and you'd still adore him.  
  
He doesn't know that, though; you don't dare tell him how much you need him, how badly you crave his touch and kiss, and you certainly won't ever let him know that this is much more than just fucking for you. There've been too many times you thought it was safe to open up, only to get smacked down, and if you tried and he laughed at you, you think you'd have to go for an afternoon walk. You promised yourself that you wouldn't put yourself out there again after the last time, and hopefully you'll be able to hold to that.  
  
All too soon, the words and fingers have turned you into an absolute mess, whimpering and whining, just a stone's throw away from absolute begging. He's made you beg before, but now it seems like he intends to be merciful, because just when you think you can't bear it anymore, his fingers slide free and then - ohhh, then you get the smooth press of something harder and smoother and so much hotter. It's like being alive again, and all you can do is moan as he turns you inside out with that first steady push.  
  
It's slow and steady, just the way he likes it during these times in the darkness, a gentle rocking that builds the need at an excruciatingly slow pace. He's barely moving inside you, just tiny little thrusts while he strokes you with one of those huge paws that turn you to absolute mush. You can hear yourself, whimpering and mewling, but it doesn't matter, not when he tells you how perfect you are in that slightly breathless tone that tells you exactly how done in he really is. When you hear him moan and feel the silky spurt of heat inside you, you don't even try to hold back - not that you could if you wanted to.  
  
Afterward, he kisses your neck and holds you close, like something precious and cherished, and you could almost believe it, almost believe that he really does care. It's not real, you know that - soon enough you'll be back at each other's throats, spitting and swearing, but right now... right now you close your eyes and let yourself believe. The darkness and tenderness won't last forever, but you'll drink it in while you can and be grateful for it.


End file.
